


quelqu'un m'entend

by LtTanyaBoone



Series: nous nous retrouverons pour apprendre à voler [1]
Category: Cardinal (TV 2017)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, F/M, Gen, Post-Season/Series 02, tv show compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: Lise Delorme character study. Sort of. *takes place well after the S2 finale*





	quelqu'un m'entend

**Author's Note:**

> I opened my inbox on tumblr for prompts, and an anon asked for anything with Lise Delorme. This is the result.
> 
> Book!Lise can be interpreted as bisexual, and thanks to TV!Lise's quip about sleeping with her female DS, I've decided that bisexual Lise Delorme is canon.

She feels his eyes on her as she leans forward slightly and turns the key in the ignition, the car's engine humming to life. Lise shifts and wonders if she should take of her gloves, but then decides against it as she watches her breath condensate in the icy interior of the car. She reaches out and places a hand on the wheel as her right one goes to put the car into gear so she can pull out of the parking spot and weave back into traffic.

It takes him six whole minutes, before Cardinal speaks.

"Seemed like a nice kid."

Lise swallows and then gives a slight nod. She agrees with him, Margot'd seemed like she was well behaved, for a teenager who was stuck in a little town such as Algonquin Bay. She apparently just started drifting, hanging out with the wrong people... Lise remembers her own journey towards self-discovery all those years ago, remembers countless moments when it could have all gone incredibly wrong.

"You know her?"

"No," Lise replies, her eyes focused on the road she's navigating, looking for suspicious glinting amongst the snow, hinting at hidden ice patches. She doesn't have to look at Cardinal to know he's surprised. He shifts just a tiny bit in his seat, to be better able to look at her. He might as well have whipped around his head to stare at her openly.

He doesn't say anything for a few miles. The silence fills the car, fills the space between Lise and her partner, and she changes her hold on the wheel just a little, to be better able to grip it.

"I know what she feels like," she hears herself say. "Growing up, becoming an adult, it can be, difficult."

Cardinal makes a sound somewhere between a humm and a clearing of his throat. Lise keeps her eyes trained on the road and pulls her foot back a little, taking off some of the little speed the car has. She really, really doesn't trust these backwoods roads.

"Looks like you managed."

Lise tilts her head, a smile tugging on her lips at the backhanded compliment. She gives a shrug, concentrating on the road ahead.

"I had some help," she remarks. Chances a glance at Cardinal before turning her attention back on driving and getting them back to the station.

"Older friends?" he guesses, but Lise shakes her head no.

"Not really," she admits. "Most of them... they weren't trying to figure out what I was dealing with, at the time."

"Huh," Cardinal hums. Looks out the side window for a moment before returning his attention to her. She still hasn't figured out whether she likes it or not, when he is so intently focused on nothing but her. In a way, it makes her nervous. She's no longer investigating him, and there really is no reason to be anxious about anything he might discover, but she can't help herself, her stomach still drops a little when he looks at her for too long. And after it has dropped, there's this strange sensation, of, butterflies. If she's honest, she hates that even more than her nervousness around him. That she has this sort of reaction to a man giving her his attention. Not just any man; John Cardinal has this way of looking at you that makes you think he can see right through all your defenses, and the ones he can't he will crack in time. And he is rather attractive, Lise catches herself thinking a lot more, lately. Attractive in a rugged sort of way.

She gives a slight shake of her head to pull herself from those thoughts and reaches out to turn on the radio, hoping that some mindless pop song will shut him up and steady her wandering thoughts.

* * *

"Looking for trouble?"

She jumps. And feels herself blush to the roots of her hair. She's a goddamn Detective, and she not only misses someone walking up behind herself, no, Lise also basically jumps right out of her seat when they suddenly speak.

She quickly pulls a file over the paper on her desk and turns slightly to look at Cardinal. He's bent over slightly from his attempt of finding out what has captivated all of her attention. She raises an eyebrow at him pointedly and he straightens and raises his hands in a gesture of surrender as he starts on his way to his own desk. Lise watches him as he sits down and tilts his head a little at her.

"Piece of advice," he tells her and she feels herself tense up. "People like him," Cardinal continues and nods towards where McLeod has his desk, "aren't gonna change. It won't help if you report it."

Lise opens her mouth, and before she can think better of it, she already has told Cardinal it wasn't McLeod who crossed the line.

"I know chauvinistic pigs and how to handle them. He's by far not the worst I've had to deal with," she shakes her head and slowly pulls the file from the form in front of her. Furrows her brows slightly as she wonders, not for the first time, if she is overreacting. Maybe she's seeing stuff that's not there. Maybe she's just too sensitive about these things. And really, she kind of started all this herself. It had been a harmless joke, a simple quip to shut up the guys. She never would have thought someone might take it serious, and start digging into her private life.

"Then who's on your shit list?"

The crass comment makes her look up in surprise. She can count on one hand the number of times that she's heard Cardinal use a curse word.

The look he gives her isn't judging. Just, curious, in a way she hasn't seen before. He's usually all sharp, well-aimed attention. Now it seems like, instead of a homing beacon, she's looking at a light diffuser, and it is startling in it's contrast.

Lise shakes her head and pulls open her drawer. Grabs the form and tosses it inside before loudly kicking her drawer shut again, metal clanking.

"No one," she tells him and pulls over a file to read through it yet again, as if she can somehow make the sinking feeling in her stomach go away if she just throws herself into her work enough.

* * *

She doesn't usually ask. Some way, she always finds out, sooner or later, if her partners speak French. Usually it's sooner, and it also usually happens when she makes a comment to herself and the person with her snorts in amusement.

Cardinal, however, has managed to not show his hand yet. She thinks he understands some French, but not enough to really be able to follow even a simple conversation. And then there are times when Lise wonders if perhaps she is underestimating him and he actually understands a lot more than he is letting on.

He always lets her do the French interviews, and always asks for full reports after. Even if he is right there, he waits for her to translate, before he comments in English and asks her to translate. Maybe it's his way of showing respect, or of making sure nothing gets lost in translation, Lise doesn't know.

"I can't do this one," she tells him when Cardinal motions for her to follow him to Interrogation. He pauses, searches her face.

"Any particular reason?" he asks, his voice low. Lise opens her mouth. In that moment, she's itching to tell him. Is so tired, of all of this. But then she thinks of what it will mean. What will probably happen, when people find out. And her courage leaves her. Has her close her mouth again and look away as she shifts.

"I'm sorry," she mutters and pushes past him, in dire need of fresh air.

* * *

She knows everyone's eyes are on her when she leaves Dyson's office. So she tries to carry her head high. Tries not to let them see how much that conversation just got to her.

At least she manages not to slam the door closed behind her when she takes a file and map into the conference room. It's not that she strictly needs to work on this. She just needs a bit of space, away from where everyone is free to look at her, take in her every movement.

"Tabernac," Lise curses and kicks a chair under the desk. Puts her hands against her back as she paces the length of the room. Her alibi map is spread out, various random items holding down the corners. She's opened the file and thrown it on top as well. If someone walks in, it'll just look like she's thinking, trying to make sense of the geographical details of this case. Or so she hopes.

"Here."

Lise jumps and whirls around. Watches, as Cardinal leans forward and puts down a cup of coffee for her on the edge of the table. Leans back again, well out of her way. Silent, non-threatening. She isn't sure, but she thinks he's actually slouching, making himself smaller.

"Thank you," she mutters and walks over to pick up the cup. Lifts it to her lips and takes a careful sip of the hot liquid. Manages to stay close to him for a few moments, even, before the urge to turn and run becomes too much. So she shifts and walks back over to where she's tossed her notepad.

"Anything you need help with?" Cardinal asks, his voice low. Lise sits down and gives a slight shake of her head.

"No, not particularly," she tells him. Looks at him for a second and forces what she hopes is a convincing smile. "Thank you. For the coffee."

"Sure," he nods. Turns to leave, his hand on the door handle.

"Lise?"

"Hm?" she looks up from her notes, her interest perked by his usage of his first name.

"It didn't get out through me."

She feels her jaw drop briefly before she can reign her reaction in.

"Excuse me?"

Cardinal keeps his back to her, but he does move to push the door almost completely closed. Keep others from freely listening in on their conversation.

"My interview with Whyland, it was on tape. I had to put what she said down. But I didn't tell anyone else about it."

"You told Dyson, though. Didn't you."

"Had to," Cardinal reminds her, and Lise lets out a soft sigh. Stares at her handwriting before she leans back in her chair to rub her hands over her face.

"I know," she tells him, finally. "I know you didn't have a choice. And I believe you. About not telling anyone else. It doesn't matter, how it got out. It did. And now I am paying the price."

Cardinal shifts. She hears him move, and when she looks at him again, she finds he has turned around. Is regarding her, again, searching for, something.

"Did you know?" he asks her, his voice low. "You don't have to answer," he adds when Lise's jaw tightens. "Forget I asked."

And with that, he turns and leaves the room. Leaves her to her pretend work.

She knows she won't be able to forget his question, though. Won't forget the moment when all the trust she managed to build with him went out of the window and she was thrown back right to square one.

* * *

"What kind of woman sleeps with a hooker?"

The instant the words leave McLeod's mouth, Lise can feel the temperature drop in the room. Feels almost every pair of eyes move to stare at her.

There's a phone ringing in the main room. Lise can hear it, once, twice, three times. The air con is working hard to keep the room at a bearable temperature, ten detectives crammed inside it making it work overtime, yet Lise feels like she's just been dumped into a vat of ice water.

Cardinal clears his throat.

"Noise complaints follow up," he continues on, ignoring the remark just made by his colleague. Lise swallows thickly and keeps her head down for the rest of the meeting. Thankfully, she doesn't have anything to share with the investigation team this morning.

"I'll go get an unmarked," Szelagy says as he gets up once the meeting is over. He says it to her, but he doesn't quite manage to meet Lise's gaze.

* * *

"Let it go."

"He's being an asshole-"

"Delorme."

The sharpness with which Cardinal says her name makes her snap out of it. She looks up at him, finally registering the iron grip he has on her arm. The way he stands, half in front of her, blocking her way to McLeod.

"Take a walk, Ian," he adds over his shoulder. Lise keeps her eyes on Cardinal, on his face. So she doesn't have to look at McLeod, doesn't have to watch him leave the conference room and slam the door shut behind him.

She jerks her arm from his grip at the sound and pulls back. Cardinal takes a few steps back and holds up his hands, palm out. Lise reaches up to run her hands through her hair. Pulls the hair tie out and shakes her head before she bunches her hair up again. Her entire body is filled with a restless energy, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She paces, five steps this way, five in the other direction. Then whirls around and grabs the mug on the table before throwing it against the wall.

To his credit, he doesn't yell out. Cardinal just takes a step back, to avoid the spraying shards of ceramic. Holds out a pacifying hand when the door opens and someone sticks their head in.

"It's okay, I got it," he tells whoever went to investigate the noise. Lise keeps her back turned, arms crossed tightly in front of her. Shame begins to burn up inside of her, rivalling with the anger she was so consumed by just moments ago. She hears the door close softly again.

"You got it out of your system?"

Cardinal's voice is uncharacteristically soft. Lise swallows thickly and draws a ragged breath. Presses a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. To keep herself from screaming. Once she starts, she might not be able to stop.

"How about I take you to the ring?" he offers. Lise turns a little. Risks a glance at him. He's still by the door, but leaning against the wall now. Seems strangely relaxed, for a guy that just basically had a mug thrown at him. She winces at the thought of the damage her fit might have caused. He's not the one she wants to hurt.

"No, thank you," she mutters and gives a sharp shake of her head. Feels his eyes on her as he watches her.

"Might do you some good," he shrugs. "Get some of the pent-up frustration out."

Lise turns around to face him, her arms crossed tightly in front of her again.

"Because the reminder of no one changing in the locker room with me won't add any frustration, at all," she tells him. Watches, as his eyes widen slightly in mute surprise.

Lise shakes her head and looks away. Looks out of the window, at the parking lot. McLeod and Szelagy are talking. She frowns, her brows furrow when she sees Szelagy step closer towards the older man. She'd thought... He'd been so, normal, with her, when they went to the Marina together the other day to interview potential witnesses.

She blinks and looks away, the fight suddenly going out of her. Pulls out a chair to sink into as the tears begin to burn in her eyes again. It's humiliating, and degrading, but she can't stop herself, Lise bursts into tears, the pressure of the previous weeks finally getting the better of her.

She doesn't hear him move. Only feels Cardinal's hand on her shoulder after a couple of moments. Realizes, with a start, that he's sat down next to her, and it makes her cry all the harder.

* * *

"What happened to him?"

Lise asks, her brows twitching as she watches McLeod hold an ice pack to his left eye.

"No idea," Szelagy mutters, keeping a tight hold on the ice pack cooling his right hand. Lise blinks, looks between the two men.

"Szelagy-"

"I was looking at my notes, you know, from the Marina?" the younger man begins and pulls out his notepad. "I kept thinking, something wasn't making sense," he continues and Lise watches as he launches into a tale of a different case and something seeming eerily similar, so he went back to check, and-

"That's good work," she nods. Hesitates, then gives him a soft smile. "Thank you."

"Just doing my job," Szelagy shrugs. Looks up at her, his eyes meeting hers for a second. "I like doing it, with you," he says, and then his eyes widen in shock. "I mean, working. Working, with you. Detective Delorme."

"It's alright," Lise shakes her head in amusement at his mortified face. Reaches out to place her hand on his shoulder for a moment. "Merci," she whispers and leaves him in favor of informing Dyson about their new findings, and to start on getting a warrant for their new suspect's house.

* * *

She's just about ready to drown her sorrows in a bottle of whiskey when the doorbell rings. Lise sighs and takes another sip of her drink before she walks over to open it. And finds herself facing Cardinal. With a six pack in his hand.

"Hey," he greets her and holds up the beer. Lise shifts and considers him for a moment.

"If it doesn't bother you that I'm kind of ahead already," she tells him as she steps aside to let him in. He steps inside, past her, and walks over to her couch. Sets down the beer and then motions, towards her glass and the bottle of whiskey.

"Mind if I have one of those, too?"

"Sure," Lise nods and gets him a glass. Sets it onto the table before she flops back down into her couch. Cardinal pours himself a drink and then holds out his glass, and Lise clinks hers against it, ignoring his soft 'cheers' as she downs half the contents of her glass in one go. She's not usually one to get drunk, but tomorrow is her day off, and honestly, it has been a shitty couple of weeks.

They drink in silence, switching to the beer Cardinal brought over in silent agreement.

"I didn't know she was a, professional."

She doesn't know what makes her say it. It might be the second beer. Or maybe it is the two whiskeys she had before that. Or perhaps it is the guilt she still feels, and the shame that keeps bubbling up every time she steps foot into the precinct.

Cardinal lets out a soft hum. Rubs his thumb over the label of his beer.

"I gathered as much," he tells her. "Whyland, what she told me... Seemed like it was more personal than sex."

Lise lets the words linger, lets them fill the space around them. Fill the emptiness of her house, the place she shared with Josh.

"It was," she whispers. Reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I only found out, after. I should have reported it then, but..." she trails off.

"I get it," Cardinal replies. The look she gives him must be less than convinced, because he continues on. "You wanted to protect your privacy. I get that."

Lise swallows then. Inclines her head and takes another sip of her beer.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes to him. "I know I should have told you, before. I'm sorry this is messing with your career-"

"I don't care about that," Cardinal shakes his head. Watches her, intently. Why is it that he seems so much more sober than she feels? Her head's kind of wobbly, and Lise feels like she is saying things she'd rather keep to herself.

"I am worried. About you."

"I'll be fine, John," she shakes her head, and yes, okay, she is drunk alright. "It's just, difficult, right now."

Cardinal inclines his head in silence and finishes off his beer, before he sets his bottle down loudly.

When she wakes up the next morning, she's still on her couch. Someone's pulled a blanket over her. There's a glass of water on the table, and two white pills next to it. Lise sits up with a soft groan and cradles her head, pain exploding behind her eyes. She reaches over and takes the painkillers, draining the glass quickly. There's a note, as well. Scribbled in Cardinal's controlled writing.

_Take it easy, partner._

Maybe it's the painkillers, but somehow, Lise feels just a little bit lighter.

* * *

She doesn't really think about it. The moment the toddler reaches up, Lise is bending down, picking them up and making shushing sounds as she holds them close.

The paramedic just does a quick check, so make sure that none of the blood is coming from the child. It seems, distraught, Lise thinks, but not like it's in physical pain. Then again, it keeps clinging to her. Maybe picking the child up hadn't been the brightest idea Lise has ever had, but it had been an instinct, in a way. Part cop training, part basic human instinct. You see a kid in distress reaching for you, you pick them up and get them out of the situation. Right?

"Hey there," Cardinal greets the little child when they are down at Ident. He has her overnight bag. Fresh clothes, because now Lise's are considered evidence.

"Her name is Annabelle," he informs Lise as she holds onto the squirming girl while Arsenault is trying to take pictures. "She's thirteen months old."

Lise swallows and nods. Gently strokes the girl's back and resists the urge to lean in and kiss her little cheek. Thirteen months old, and probably witnessed the murder of her parents. Of to a great start.

"I can watch her," Cardinal offers. "So you can," he gestures. Lise hesitates, then slowly shakes her head.

"I'll wait, until we're done here," she tells him. Doesn't know how to explain that she doesn't want to leave the girl with strangers. Lise is a stranger, too, but... The toddler seems to like her well enough. She holds onto her hand and watches her intently. Arsenault tried to position her earlier, and she'd started crying. So they've resorted to him telling Lise what position he needs the kid to be in and then she coaxes the girl into it slowly, gently.

Cardinal just hums his assent. Lise watches him briefly, watches his face go soft, and wonders, for a moment, if he remembers his own daughter at that age.

If Josh and her had gone through with it, their child would be around this age, too. A little older, perhaps. Lise frowns, then decides that this isn't any sort of math she is excited to puzzle out. Some things are better left unexplored.

* * *

"Delorme," she sighs into the receiver of the phone when she picks it up for the sixth time that hour. She really, really hates getting stuck on InfoLine duty.

"Of course, DS," she mutters and hangs up. She stands, her stomach deciding to stay down as her body moves up. She's pretty sure her hands are shaking. Lise gives a slight shake of her head at Cardinal's questioning look. No, she doesn't know what this is about.

Being called into Dyson's office has never been a good thing, in anyone's book. It's one of those things that are pretty universal: your boss calls you into their office, you can be pretty sure you messed up somewhere. Lise knows the big screw-up that is still hanging over her, still following her around. But she isn't aware of any other mistake she might have made, since then. She's tried to keep everything in order, following the rules to a T.

"You look..." Cardinal mutters when he catches her, seemingly by accident, when she leaves the office half and hour later. He's stepped from the photocopy room. Lise would buy it, if she didn't know that he usually asks someone else to make his copies, ever since they installed the new machine. Cardinal keeps saying that the thing has it out for him, and usually, Lise ends up rolling her eyes and doing his copies for him.

"Huh?" she mutters as she shakes her head to clear her thoughts. He gives her a silent, searching look, and she swallows thickly.

"It's nothing," she tells him with an attempt at a reassuring smile. Judging from the way his brows twitch, she's doing a less than convincing job. Lise shifts, inclines her head.

"I handed in a written testimony, for Rebecca Whyland's upcoming trial," she explains. "Someone leaked it. She wanted to warn me, in case it ends up in the paper."

Cardinal recoils slightly and shifts. Lowers the file in his hands.

"Let me grab my coat," he says and then leaves her standing there, completely dumbfounded.

She'd thought that this nightmare was going to be over, finally. But it seems like every time she's close to escaping it, it ends up pulling her right back under.

* * *

"John."

"Huh?"

Lise leans back and forces her eyes open. Looks up, at his face. The unfamiliar expression on it, a mixture of worry, concern and excitement.

"I'm sorry," she mutters and takes a step back. The wind hits the side of her face, and it makes her flinch. It's biting. She should have brought a hat.

He doesn't say anything. Just watches her face, and Lise sees his fall, the excitement draining from it. Getting replaced by regret, dread.

"I'm sorry," she repeats with a slight shake of her head.

"No," Cardinal shakes his head. "It's, my fault," he insists. Lise frowns, tries to remember. He did stroke her cheek, that is true. But honestly, she's not sure, which one of them leaned in first. She knows she definitely didn't do anything to stop him. Kissed back, even.

"I should," she starts and motions towards the street. Her car is parked down there, somewhere. When she turns around, she really hopes she'll remember the direction it's in. Because that would just be the icing on the whole cake of Pathetic™ that she's been serving lately.

"Of course," Cardinal nods. Keeps his hands firmly at his sides. She turns and takes the steps down from the precinct.

Left, she parked to the left, she thinks, and turns. And forces herself not to turn around and look at him again.

* * *

"Look, it's not..." she starts and pauses.

Cardinal blinks at her. Waits, for her to continue. It's been so awkward, between them. Since the kiss.

They haven't really talked about it. Outside of him apologizing again. And saying he hadn't meant to overstep her boundaries, and was hoping they could still work together. Lise was hoping the same thing, but the more time passes, the more painfully obvious it becomes that this is not working.

"It's not because you're a guy," she finally says. Cardinal lets out a soft cough. Looks away, and Lise thinks, Bingo.

"I was married, you know," she reminds him, indignation rising inside of her. "Contrary to what other people may think, I actually did love my husband."

"Woah, easy," Cardinal mutters and holds up his hands. "I never thought you didn't," he tells her, after a beat. Then, "I wasn't thinking that, at all."

Lise lets out a breath. Swallows and her shoulders slump. She takes a few steps. Paces, in his kitchen.

"It just..." she starts and rests her hands on her hips as she turns to him again. "This is the last thing I need, right now."

Is she imagining things, or did he actually flinch?

Lise blinks. John looks away, his jaw tight, and she realizes with a start that she hit a nerve.

"Tabernac," she mutters and rubs a hand over her face, the double meaning in her words dawning on her. "I didn't mean it like that," she tells him, one hand still on her hip, the other arm dangling at her side, utterly useless.

"Then what did you mean?" he asks, his voice soft. He looks at her again, eyes searching. It makes her swallow, hard.

"That people have finally stopped gossiping, about me. If they find out about, this," she says and gestures between them, "it'll start up again. And that is honestly not something I want to deal with, again. Especially not so soon."

He looks like he is going to say something, then. Lise waits, coiled tightly, ready for a fight. But then Cardinal just takes a deep breath, and remains quiet.

And somehow, that is worse than any insult he might have hurled at her.

* * *

Her shoulder is throbbing.

And her mouth feels like it's been filled with cotton.

Lise lets out a soft cough. It makes her gasp in pain, cutting her attempt at opening her eyes short as she squeezes them shut again.

She knows he's there before he even says anything. She can smell his aftershave, the familiar scent calming her nerves at least somewhat.

"Easy, partner," Cardinal mutters and she feels his hand on her wrist for a moment. Struggles, again, to open her eyes, and finally manages.

He looks like death warmed over.

Lise tries to speak, but her throat protests in pain, and she grimaces. Tries, to ask for water. The sound that does make it out sounds nothing like the word, though. She's surprised when he gets it and holds a cup with a straw for her.

It's only after she drained it for the second time that she realizes that she tried to speak French.

"Wha' happ'n?" she asks, after sinking back into the pillow of her bed. She's aware now, of only wearing a hospital gown. Of cables running inside it. The heart monitor's not beeping, at least. She's always hated how annoying those things are. Maybe John knows and asked them to turn it down. Has she mentioned that to him?

"You got shot," he tells her, and Lise does attempt to roll her eyes then. Bad idea, she finds out not a second later, as pain explodes behind her eyelids. "One to the shoulder, through and through. Superficial graze on your right side, too."

She remembers that. Remembers the searing pain that made her scream out. Probably what saved her, because she's pretty sure that she moved, too, and that bullet to her shoulder, it probably would have ended up somewhere much more dangerous, or deadly, if she hadn't.

"You?" she asks. Watches, as he swallows thickly. Then lifts his hand. Bright blue plastic cast shining. It makes her snicker, and Lise lets out a groan when the movement makes her wounds throb again.

"Took a hammer to my hand," he says, darkly. Her eyes widen and she stares at him.

"John-"

"I'm fine," he shakes his head. Watches her, intently, his eyes on hers for a long moment. It's hard to breathe, with the way he looks at her. Then he blinks, and the intense expression is suddenly gone. Her chest feels lighter, and Lise takes a deep breath. The monitor does let out a warning at that, but quickly resumes it quiet working.

"Got your own joy button," John mutters and grabs it. Holds it out to her with a nod towards the pump. "Press once for blissful relief."

"Thanks," she mutters and takes it, though she resists the urge to hammer down on the thing. She still feels groggy, if she gets anything else in her system, she'll conk out again.

"Rest up," he tells her and stands. When he's left her room, she lets out a shuddering breath, her eyes fluttering closed. Her arm is still warm, where he touched it in goodbye, the skin tingling softly.

* * *

"Maybe I should get you a hooker."

He lets out a snort of surprise and nearly spits out his coffee.

"What?"

Lise watches him, managing for one moment to keep the deadpan expression on her face. And then she dissolves into giggles. Presses her hand over her mouth and shakes her head.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes at John's mortified expression. "I was just joking."

He gives her a dark look at that. Looks down at his shirt and tie, to make sure he hasn't spilled anything on himself, thanks to her attempt at humor.

But really, he'd been so gloomy that she'd just had to do it. Plus, she'd have bet money he wasn't even listening to her. It had been as good a quip as any, to make sure he was still with her, mentally.

"For the record," he says, after a moment, "please don't hire me a hooker."

"Noted," she nods. Tries to smile at him, but he doesn't look at her. Lise tilts her head and watches him glare at his donut. Another one of her attempts at joking. She'd shown up on his doorstep, with bad coffee and donuts. Because they're cops. Even if it is their day off.

He'd chucked the coffee and made them a decent one, but insisted on keeping the donuts. She could have sworn that he did smile, just a tiny little bit, when he'd said it was worth watching her having to eat one.

She reaches out and places her hand on his, for a moment, before standing and going to grab the coffee pot to refill her mug.

"Want some?" she asks and he nods, mutely. She grabs the milk without a second thought and tops his mug up, then slides back into her seat at his table. He looks at her, then, a strange expression in his eyes. Something in them makes her feel, warm, in the pit of her stomach. No, not that low. That's a different sort of warmth. This, this feels more like, Josh taking her hand and entwining their fingers. Rebecca Whyland resting her head in Lise's lap and a sigh escaping her.

She blinks and looks away. Grabs her coffee and takes a sip, ignoring the way it burns her mouth.

"So," she says when she's sat the mug back down. "If you don't want a hooker, what can I get you, for your birthday?"

He doesn't answer. Blinks, slowly, and takes a sip of his own coffee. Then takes his donut and takes a bite.

Okay. Clearly not in the mood for this topic, then.

"Fine," Lise sighs. "But don't complain when I get you one of those ties with the funny prints."

"No complaining," John nods. "Got it."

It makes her decide to look up those ties once she gets home.

* * *

He actually wears it.

Nine days after his birthday, Cardinal shows up at work. His tie the bright blue one she got him as a present. With moose all over it.

"Cardinal," Dyson addresses him, then does a double take when she catches sight of his outfit. "Please tell me this is a joke."

"What is, DS?" he asks, sounding so innocent it almost makes Lise burst out with laughter.

"You have a press conference in fifteen minutes, and you decided to wear," the DS starts and gestures at his chest, "that?"

Cardinal straightens a little then.

"It's my fault," Lise steps in. "I made him put it on."

Dyson looks between the two of them, back and forth. Her eyes linger on Lise for a moment and Lise inclines her head a little. Wonders, for probably the hundredth time, how long there will still be the lingering remainder of disappointment in Dyson's gaze whenever she looks at her.

"I hope you have a spare," she finally says and walks away.

Lise closes her eyes and takes a slow breath.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I didn't think..." she trails off with a shrug when she faces him. And finds, to her surprise, Cardinal's lips quirking into a boyish grin.

"Damn, I've wanted to do that for months," he says. Bends down and opens his drawer, to produce a dark navy tie. "Thanks for that," he tells her and reaches out to squeeze Lise's arm, before he leaves her standing there. Goes, in the direction of the bathroom, to change his tie in front of a mirror.

And leaves her staring after him, her body tingling all over.

* * *

"John."

This time, she sighs his name into his mouth. Reaches up to cradle his face as she kisses him again.

Feels him sigh, and then his hands are brushing over her hips carefully, as if he's afraid she will bolt. Lise feels herself grin and steps closer. Feels his arms wrap around her waist, hands splaying against her back as he pulls her impossibly close.

She almost loses her balance, then. He steadies her, shuffling a little on his feet. It breaks their kiss, and when she looks at him, she sees him smile.

"I like that," he tells her. At her confused expression, he swallows. She feels a hand leave her back, before his strokes her cheek again, so carefully.

"The way you say my name."

"Are you making fun of my accent?" she asks and narrows her eyes at him. He lets out a bark of laughter at that, and oh yes, she's got it bad, judging from the millions of butterflies that take flight in her belly at that sound.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he tells her. Sobers, as he looks at her again. His hand is warm, still resting against her cheek, and Lise turns her face into the touch. Closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as she relaxes.

"You okay?" he asks her, his voice barely audible in the silence of her house.

"Yes," she nods and opens her eyes again. Smiles, at him, and leans up on her tiptoes to brush her lips over his again in a soft caress.

"What about..." he pushes, trailing off. "People talking."

"I'm not going to like it," she admits. "And you might have to pull me back again. Before I do some, damage," she allows, referring to that time she nearly went and hit McLeod for his crass comment regarding her sex life.

John's eyebrows lift, then, and she gives a slight shake of her head. Rubs her thumbs over his cheeks gently.

"But I'm tired," she tells him. "Of living my life to the satisfaction of others. I like you. I like you very much, John."

"I like you, too," he replies. His lips quirk into this boyish grin and he lets out a chuckle. "That makes us sound like some lovesick teenagers on their first date."

She laughs, then. Leans forward to hide her face in his broad chest as her shoulders shake. He holds her close and she feels him rest his chin on her head, briefly, the stubble of his beard catching on her hair when he pulls back. It makes her wonder what she looks like, now, and causes her to make a mental note to fix her hair, later.

But right now, she'd much rather do something else. Namely, kiss him. Again. And again. And again.

Her hair can wait.

_fin._


End file.
